


don't hold back

by lucymonster



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Biting, Choking, F/F, Fight Sex, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-05-28 18:54:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19400293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/pseuds/lucymonster
Summary: It's hate sex, apparently. Vers doesn't really understand why - if she had her way, these sessions of theirs would be a whole lot more frequent and a whole lot less violent. But Minn-Erva seems to need a fight to get her going.At the end of the day, Vers just likes being able to give her what she needs.





	don't hold back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosecake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/gifts).



Minn-Erva releases her chokehold on Vers and steps away, lip curling. ‘You’re holding back.’

It’s early morning on Vers’s day off, and instead of sleeping in or catching a weekend broadcast, she’s here in the arena letting an increasingly annoyed Minn-Erva knock her around. Of course she’s holding back. That goes without saying. Minn-Erva is into some pretty weird stuff, but getting blown to smithereens by an unchecked photon blast probably won’t scratch her itch. 

Probably. Vers does wonder sometimes.

They circle each other, arms up in guard position, feet soundless on the padded floor mats. For the sake of their game, Vers says: ‘You’re not exactly making it hard for me. I thought Starforce warriors were trained to be the best of the best.’

‘Starforce warriors were trained not to give their superiors lip,’ Minn-Erva spits back. ‘Come on, work harder. Attack me like you mean it.’

Vers attacks. She feints on her first approach, lands a spinning reverse kick to Minn-Erva’s ribs, and Minn-Erva snarls and counters with an onslaught of blows that drive Vers back to the arena’s edge. Thing is, it’s hard to attack like she means it when she has no idea what ‘meaning it’ is actually supposed to look like. Minn-Erva is Vers’s superior, yes. She’s also whip-smart and self-assured and ridiculously pretty, and if Vers had her way, these sessions of theirs would be a whole lot more frequent and a whole lot less violent. She likes being around Minn-Erva. Likes the sharp banter and the easy bravado. Likes that in the heavily male-dominated environment of the Supreme Intelligence’s central military, she has a sister in arms to look up to – which is primitive thinking, of course, and no doubt a symptom of the Skrull-inflicted mental damage her teachers are still helping her work through. 

Commander, subordinate. Skrull, Kree. Those are the only social distinctions that matter in Starforce. Anything else is tribal bullshit.

Minn-Erva would sneer if she knew what Vers is really thinking each time she attacks. Of course, Minn-Erva would sneer anyway – she loves to sneer. For reasons Vers doesn’t really understand, sneering is a big part of what little time they spend together. Teetering right on the arena’s out-of-bounds line, she surges forward and pushes Minn-Erva onto the back foot, taking her down with a knee to the abdomen right at her centre of gravity. Minn-Erva kicks out as she falls, and the two of them end up on the mat, rolling and grappling and fighting for the upper hand.

This time, Vers manages to lose the fight with just enough convincing resistance that Minn-Erva smiles as she pins her by the throat. ‘That’s more like it,’ Minn-Erva says. ‘Holding back is for cowards. If you weren’t trying your hardest, it doesn’t really count if you lose, does it?’

‘You got me that time,’ Vers rasps. Minn-Erva sure as hell isn’t holding back with the grip on her throat. Her thighs are tight around Vers’s hips, breath hot on her face, and the gleam in her eyes tells Vers they’re finally done with foreplay.

Minn-Erva isn’t much gentler about sex than she is about sparring. She bites Vers’s lip as she tears the sweaty training gear off her, then bites her inner thighs as she works her way up to Vers’s cunt. She even threatens to bite Vers’s clit, teeth scraping in a way that sends adrenaline pouring through Vers’s veins before Minn-Erva replaces the cruel cutting edge with her slick, soft tongue. Vers retaliates by pulling Minn-Erva’s hair, threading her fingers through intricate braids and tugging until she hears a satisfying hiss of pain. As Vers rushes towards her hard-earned orgasm – always too fast after the long and brutal build up – Minn-Erva forces her thighs apart wider and pins her body down like at any moment Vers might try to jump up and resume their fight.

No risk of that. Vers doesn’t mind helping Minn-Erva get her blood up, but the fight has never been why she comes here. She throws back her head, arches into Minn-Erva’s grip and lets herself go.

Minn-Erva licks her all the way through the aftershocks, circling and suckling her clit until Vers is twitching and squirming beneath her. Then she straddles Vers again, and holds her down, and presses a hand back to her throat until she’s right on the brink of needing to tap out. Right on the brink but not over the line. She stays calm and relaxes her limbs and focuses on sucking in oxygen, and Minn-Erva grinds her clothed cunt against Vers’s bare thigh until finally she comes as well.

When Minn-Erva lets her up, Vers can feel stiffness settling into her joints. There are bruises rising up all over her body, broken capillaries throbbing hot beneath her skin. ‘Not bad, Sparklefists.’ Her cool collectedness totally belies her death-grip orgasm from moments ago. ‘Don’t feel bad that you couldn’t beat me. You did your best.’ There’s another expression that Vers knows almost as well as Minn-Erva’s sneer: her smirk. ‘Shall we spar again this time next week?’

Vers is probably never going to fully grasp the twists and turns of Minn-Erva’s psyche. Primitive Skrull mindfuck issues aside, she’s absolutely sure there’s more to their bond than all these weird fake-enemy games they keep having to play. She can do the violent hate sex thing if that’s what Minn-Erva needs to get her going, but she’ll never buy that it doesn’t mean  _ something  _ that she’s the one Minn-Erva trusts to share this side of her.

‘Sure,’ she says, and copies Minn-Erva’s cocky stance as well as she can. She doesn't bother mentioning her as-yet-unused photon blast abilities. ‘But bring your a-game next time – when I finally go all-out on your ass, I want you to have earned it.’

‘I never get sick of knocking you down a peg,’ Minn-Erva says, with a smile that Vers chooses to interpret as playful. ‘Alright then, next week it is. Bring some protective padding next time. I’m done handling you with kid gloves.’

There’s a swagger in her step as she leaves the arena, leaving Vers behind to towel up the sweat and gather up her scattered clothes.


End file.
